Short Shop Window Poems

Lush leather spotlit, 
                                    A poor girl’s palmprint on glass, 
                                            Kept a world away....

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Price for respectability
never means to spend money like water

While the wife of a poor country’s president
was outside at a shop that sells luxury items,
the shop window broke and cut her purse
and tons of bloody dollars slide out like a rocket...

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Her eyes speak
Old lace
Silk stockings
Hand contact
still him
 
 
Her eyes speak
Front Shop window
Look at her face
Stare at the mist
She dreams
 
Fluorescent lights
Flickering on her face
And
Total old
Seventy and
Some years
 
I like her
Soon I be
Missing woman...

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long haired blue eyed doll
in a shop window displayed
the child yearned for it

the mother noticed
her face showed melancholy
not enough money

the big doll stays put
she took her sad child by hand
looking back crying

at home she daydreamed
the mother baked her a cake
the girl smiled and ate...

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Sometimes this creature looks at you.
Those eyes can be so piercing.
Or are they kind, sympathetic?
He or she is fur – and even that
is artificial stuff. But with eyes.

What were you thinking when
you gazed at him - or her -
in a shop window?
Whose eyeballs were created
with coloured plastic, glass or affection?

(20 Jan 2024)
...

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Could The Ice Queen Feel

She was beyond such things
her skin did not move
leave tracks from
lives of laughter and tears.

Beautiful as a mannequin
in a shop window
her smile quivers over
razor teeth, ready to bite hearts
quell hope in all who love her.

Yet deep within her eyes
close to soulfire's still embers 
was a memory
huddled, waiting....

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Mr and Mrs walking down the High Street
Shoe shop window her eyes did now greet
Into the shop they both went
Oh! those boots, please consent
Too dear, no purchase, no receipt

Ready for bed and feeling so fruity
His hand now caressing her beauty
Cutting sharpness she says
With no payment display
No horse shoes, your not riding it's booty




....

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Walking past the shop window 
Glancing, I find I'm just not there
Even when I go back to check again
All I see is an empty stare

Rows and rows of windows
Allow me to see the other side
Even when a bus passes me
I hear my inner self confide

Walking past the shop windows
Like I've done so many times
No longer I go back to check again
For I, I can no longer find...

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she paused to dream again
there it was still in the shop window
sublime and stunning
the most perfect and exquisite
the whitest of wedding gowns
ruffles of grace and royalty
yards of elegance and pride
shiny beads dainty pearls
and such ornate lace
the loveliest gown of gowns
and she with heavy heart
on the outside
in the cold bitter air
resigned to her turn of fate



AP: Honorable Mention 2020

Posted in March 18, 2018...

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A mind realized that it had become
itself, a self
that had been molded by fractured hands
yet somehow
by the grace of time
had now become itself.

This self was both a shop-window and a mannikin,
yet even though it was a cut-out
of certain carefully crafted characteristics of an imaged reality,
it knew it was,

and
that is the difference
between one who sleep-walks an existence
and one who is fully-charged
and ready to be a light
unto itself....

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